


In the Driving Seat

by Angelci5



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Humour, M/M, Older Lads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:14:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelci5/pseuds/Angelci5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Older Bodie and Doyle bickering in the car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Driving Seat

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2009 for an Older Lads Valentine's Day Challenge, with the prompt 'Old Married Couple'.

Doyle yanked down hard on the steering wheel as he took the sharp bend on the country lane. “We should’ve been there hours ago. It’ll be getting dark soon!”

“Give it a rest, Doyle.”

“Well you can explain to him why we’re so late. If we ever get there!”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll tell him. It’s because _you_ refuse to join the 21st century and get bloody Sat Nav!”

“Didn’t think I needed Sat Nav when I’ve got you!” Doyle stole a furious glance at Bodie. “Thought your map reading skills were infallible after all those years in the sodding jungle and God knows where else. Who’d’ve thought Devon would get the better of you?”

“It has _not_ got the better of me, Doyle, this bloody map is wrong!” Bodie waved the AA Road Atlas he was holding.

“You need new glasses, mate, I keep telling you. You’ve had those ones years now.”

“Yeah, all right, don’t start on that again.”

“Bad for your eyes, you know, you’ll strain ‘em.”

“Left here, Ray.”

“What?”

“Left! Now!”

“Shit!” Doyle screeched to a halt on the narrow lane. “You could’ve warned me! No point waiting ‘til I’m on top of the bloody thing before telling me I’m meant to go down it!” He viciously threw the car into reverse and roared back up to the turning.

Bodie was about to retaliate with a comment on Doyle’s deteriorating driving skills, but one look at his irate partner and he had visions of being turfed out of the car and into the hedgerow. While the car was still moving.

He decided it would be wise to change the subject. “It’s Murph’s fault, coming to live in the back of beyond,” he declared, as once again going forwards, Doyle negotiated the never-ending blind corners.

“You’re just jealous you haven’t got a nice little country pub to call your own.”

“Nah, too much hard work the pub trade. I like being retired, get to spend more time with you, don’t I?” Bodie smiled sweetly at Doyle.

Doyle’s lips twitched. “Even though I nag you?”

“I moan at you too… just give and take, isn’t it?”

“No regrets?”

“Only that you won’t get Sat Nav.” Bodie put his hand on Doyle’s thigh. “How about you?”

Doyle pretended to think about it.

“Oi!” Bodie squeezed the leg beneath his hand. “Could give a bloke a complex, you know!”

“What, after all these years?” Doyle flashed a grin at Bodie. “Nah, old married couple, that’s us,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Look, there it is.” Bodie pointed up ahead to an olde worlde village inn they were approaching. “The Cock & Bull, perfect for Murph, eh?” he chuckled.

“Yeah, not the most romantic sounding place for a Valentine’s weekend, is it?”

“You arranged it!”

“Yeah, well, Murph invited us, didn’t he, couldn’t say no.” Doyle pulled into the small car park. “I'll leave next year to you… always fancied Venice, meself.”

Bodie gave a snort of disbelief. “Is that one of your ever-so-subtle hints?”

“If you like,” Doyle switched off the engine, and turned to Bodie. “Now listen, you’re driving us home tomorrow, so don’t overdo it tonight. I don’t want a repeat of New Year’s Eve.”

“Spoilsport,” said Bodie, picking a bit of fluff off the shoulder of Doyle’s coat. “Come on, then.” He opened his door. “Leave the bags, we’ll get ‘em later.”

They got out of the car and strolled towards the side entrance of the pub. Doyle brushed up beside Bodie as they walked. “Tell you what,” he murmured, “if you manage to get us home without getting lost tomorrow, you can have a special prize,” he said with a seductive wink and a smile.

Bodie raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “That’ll be twice in one week, mate, you sure you’re up to it?”

Doyle punched him on the shoulder, “You’re gonna pay for that.”

Just before they reached the door Bodie touched Doyle’s arm, silently stopping him. He edged them along to where they were partially concealed by the side of the building, and lightly took Doyle’s hand in his own. Doyle looked up at him, waiting expectantly.

“In case I forget later on, Ray…” Bodie stopped and looked down, frowning.

Doyle smiled affectionately. “Bodie, Bodie, Bodie. Still not easy for you, is it… unless you’ve had a few beers, of course,” he added. He glanced around, checking the car park. “Just as well I can read you like a bloody book, isn’t it?” He squeezed the hand in his own. “Love you too, mate. And you won’t forget later on, cos I’ll be sure to remind you.”

Bodie looked into the sparkling green eyes he knew so well. “Love you,” he said softly.

“Come on, you can get soppy on me tonight, when we’re not standing in broad daylight in a bloody car park.”

He started to turn for the door, but Bodie kept hold of his hand. “Ray…”

“Now what?” asked Doyle, turning back to face Bodie.

“What you said before… the old married couple thing...”

“Eh? Oh that… it’s only a figure of speech.”

“Yeah I know… it’s just that we aren’t, are we… and well, maybe we should be…” he trailed off.

Doyle grinned. “Bodie, are you standing in a pub doorway, holding my hand and asking me to marry you?”

“No!” Bodie replied defensively, dropping Doyle’s hand and putting his own firmly in his pocket. “Just saying why don’t we, that’s all.”

Doyle tried hard to make his expression serious. “Well, as proposals go, it’s not exactly Mills & Boon…” he ran a thumb over his bottom lip as he considered for a moment. “But all right, you’re on. Now, can we go inside or is there anything else needs saying?”

Bodie’s face broke into a huge smile. “No, nothing that can’t wait ‘til we’re alone,” he said, and throwing his arm around Doyle’s shoulders steered him through the door and into the warmth of the pub.

The End


End file.
